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Chapter Sixty One
One of the scientists prepped an empty chamber, pressing buttons to cause the glass to lift up. Inside was a small concave stand. The other individual lifted the lid off the smaller container and reached her glove-protected hands into the thick liquid, pulling out . . . something oval.
'What the fuck?' Shamira thought. Whatever it was, it was quickly put onto the stand in the larger tube and the glass was lowered. Another few button presses and the tube began to fill with a liquid that was both chemical and magical in nature. Then the truck started up and began to turn. Shamira made a decision and, when it paused to let the warehouse doors open, she jumped back beneath it and let it carry her outside.Banshee felt the weight of the car shift. She got out and, gun at the ready, popped the trunk. "You realize that you coming back out rather defeats the purpose of us trying to sneak in.""I think I got the picture," Shamira said as she got out. "We need sometRelated chapters
Protect and Serve Chapter Sixty Two
---------- ----------------------------A few hours before dawn . . .---------- ----------------------------"It's about fucking time," Shamira bitched. "I thought this guy was never going anywhere."Banshee glared at her. "Yes, I am sure your time went by so much slower than mine, considering the hour long phone conversations with your sister and with Clara."Shamira suppressed a grin. "Total agony.""For one of us anyway." Banshee made a point of cleaning out her ear with one fingertip. "Let us give chase.""Let us give chase," Shamira mimicked childishly. "Who talks like that?" She started up the car."I am beginning to think that I liked you better when you were not speaking to me."Jonas headed northwest of Savannah, finally turning off to Dublin and seeking out one of the seedier areas of town. Jonas was driving alone, which meant that he was very secure or incredibly stupid. When he pulled into
Protect and Serve Chapter Sixty Three
'He's bringing up a hostage from the back,' she thought. She waited patiently for the voice to get closer, listening to the scuffle as someone was pulled past the bathroom door. Shamira quietly opened the door and grabbed the gunman by both the neck and the wrist. He struggled to keep hold of the little girl that he had grasped against him . . . a little blond-haired girl that clung just as tenaciously to her doll.In an instant, Shamira took in the surroundings. The RV was obviously not a luxury item for a family traveling across country. It was well worn on every edge, with carpet that looked left over from the seventies. These people had invaded another family's home, threatened their lives, and scared a girl who couldn't be more than eight. Her hand quickly covered the man's mouth so he couldn't scream and she yanked him back into the bathroom.She didn't know why she did what she did next . . . she'd never felt a need to do so in her previous fights, but now s
Protect and Serve Chapter Sixty Four
Clara paced the floors of Lord Stapleton's manor in a frenzied manner, unable to see or think straight. Her friend and lover had disappeared almost a day ago, and the search team had not reported anything in the last several hours. What was left of the logical part of her mind knew that Shane, her vampiric lord, master, and friend was doing the right thing, diverting only the resources that he could while keeping his eye on the major prize, namely his enemy in Savannah, one Lord Lacroix. Lacroix had defied his elder lord, the Tribunal, and just about everyone in his quest for power, and was now connected with the evil morning star drug trade. And to Clara, the only thing that mattered was that Shamira was missing.The only solace that she was able to take was that Shane had finally relented and allowed Renata, his werejaguar chief of security, to lead the search for his missing dark child. The werewolf lord of Huntsville, namely one Clyde Pritchard, had lent a contingent of
Protect and Serve Chapter Sixty Five
--------------- --------------Not far away . . .--------------- --------------"Are you sure this was the road we were supposed to take?" Kristoff asked from the driver's seat. Kristoff was one of Lord Pritchard's friends from Huntsville, and he was a werewolf with a fine nose for tracking.Renata growled as she checked the instructions again. "Yes, this was the road Sebastian said to take. He said that they'd run into an elf who warned them about local goings-on and that it was on . . . Jesus Christ!" she shouted as the car she and three other were's were in screeched to a stop. Some young, half-naked teenaged boy who was bleeding from some cuts in his side raced across the road, looking like hell itself was on his heels.Renata jumped out of the car and yelled after the boy, "Hey you! Stop! Are you okay?"The boy didn't stop, and the werejaguar was forced to run after him. She took a deep whiff as she hauled ass trying to cat
Protect and Serve Chapter Sixty Six
-------- --------------------Many hours later . . .-------- --------------------Shane was standing anxiously on his golf course as the helicopter he had sent to retrieve Shamira slowly began to land on the green. The entire house that was still present in Atlanta was outside waiting, with Clara standing so close that the chopper's turbulence was threatening to knock her off her feet. Even the Representative and her entourage were out. It was unusual for this many vampires to be awake during the daytime, and it was clear that the Representative was incredibly uncomfortable. But no one was going to miss this.When Renata had called, she had sounded so angry, and she had warned Shane that Shamira was in worse shape than anything she had ever seen. Tabitha, one of Shane's newest converts and his new household medic, had gotten her miniature operating room ready, and was in constant contact with Renata. She had to push past Clara when the chopper la
Protect and Serve Chapter Sixty Seven
----------- -----------------Some time later . . .----------- -----------------Shamira felt like she'd been trampled by a heard of bulls when she finally regained consciousness. It hurt to move, breathe, or even think. The memories . . . the god-awful memories . . . they came back in a wave, along with an intense, smothering fear. She remembered the twenty-four hours of hell she had experienced at the hands of that elf. She remembered drinking his foul blood after disemboweling him. She remembered a young were in chains, and then . . . she remembered fire. Then Renata. In the back of her mind, she had heard a sweet, beautiful voice, and then that voice had cried out in horrible, horrible agony.It took an act of sheer will to open her eyes, finding herself in a dark room. Had Jonas found her? No, Renata had. Her eyes adjusted, and she found herself in a pitch-black room that would have challenged the senses of even the most perceptive vampire,
Protect and Serve Chapter Sixty Eight
--------------- ---------A week later . . .--------------- ---------Shane stood on his balcony, staring down at where Shamira sat in her wheelchair, overlooking . . . nothing. This is what she had been doing since she had agreed not to kill herself, at least not as long as she was linked to Clara anyway. She barely spoke to anyone, though there was always at least one or two members of the house nearby in case she needed to. Even his field agents had taken turns coming back up to Atlanta for a few hours to check in on her, though none had any luck getting through to her.Banshee's return had been particularly painful to watch. Shane knew that his eldest child held herself responsible for Shamira's injuries, and it hurt her to feel that she had failed. Banshee and Shamira had sat next to each other, not saying a word. The assassin had wrung her hands so hard that she had broken one of her own fingers, a sure sign that she was distressed. They ha
Protect and Serve Chapter Sixty Nine
----------- ------------------A few days later . . .----------- ------------------Shamira had never been a big fan of dresses or skirts, but putting on pants was too frustrating for her. Monique had quickly provided a number of long, flowing wrap skirts that she could pretty much roll into on her own. No one had offered to help, but not out of a lack of desire to assist her in any way they could. Shamira wanted . . . no, NEEDED to reestablish some semblance of independence. But in her mind, she could not equate being able to dress herself, play golf with the others, or feel any sexual longing at all.Tabitha had assured her that the sexual urges would return to a certain degree, but that almost made Shamira more depressed. The idea of wanting something she could no longer perform. No sex . . . no bondage games. The very thought of being put in chains again made her skin crawl. The notion of being whipped with a leather strap for mutual pleasure
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